Application of Lip gloss
by nek0-sama
Summary: Most guys wouldn't be caught-dead applying strawberry lip gloss in the men's restroom. Ryan Evans is NOT most guys. And that suits Troy Bolton just fine. Ryan's lips are just as soft as they look. Crack, slash and fluff.


Application of Lip gloss

**A/N: Warnings: **Slash, insanity and cavity inducing fluff. 

**Disclaimer: **I own **NOTHING!!**

Most guys would not spend their time in the men's restroom facilities gliding sparkling strawberry lip-gloss over their soft, full pink lips. Then again, Ryan Evans was _not_ most guys. He was the theater king of East High, as exotic and eccentric as they come. And he prided himself on that fact. He stood in front of the mirror over the sinks, puckering his lips as he had seen his twin do many a time before her compact. His lips were an object of envy for girls and one of fantasy for guys, as many would long to have lips of such softness preoccupied with covering their own or wrapping about their nether regions.

Troy Bolton, resident basketball god and swoon worthy golden boy of East High was no exception. As the brunette male finished "doing his business", he turned to his demure classmate, watching with a strange fascination as the petite boy applied the sparkling substance to his pink mouth. The mere action, one that he had seen his female peers partake in, caused a strange fluttering in his chest and a heat in his stomach that began to trickle below the waistband. Drawn in-or was reeled in more appropriate? - he approached the sink to Ryan's right in a most suave fashion, turning the knobs to feign washing his hands so as not to come off as too suspicious.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan made a note of his fantasy's actions, his expression betraying nothing as he concentrated on his task. Internally, however, he was considering the odds of Troy and him winding up alone in the restroom, the odds of those strong arms wrapping around him, those hands, large and warm squeezing his buttocks through the black denim that concealed them, those pink lips pressed to his, that tongue parting his lips and twining through his mouth…

The odds were definitely _not_ in his favor.

_I can't expect such unholiness from this god. He's East High's pillar of the idealistic society. I'm just the drama queer that wears clothing unseemly for a male, has a separate closet to store all of his hats, dances more suggestively than his sister, and dreams of seeing Troy in a way even his teammates haven't… preferably on top of me, his entrancing blue eyes dark with lust… _

The touch of a hand on his rump instantly derailed train of thought, blush dusting his creamy face. He turned to Troy, the only other occupant of the room, but the taller boy averted his gaze, feigning innocence with an incriminating grin spreading across his sun-kissed visage.

Raising a brow, Ryan felt a smirk curl his lips upward. "So, do you like most butts, Troy, or is it just mine?"

The golden boy didn't miss a beat. "Only butts as round and luscious as yours."

Was it wrong that such a line, that such absurdity warmed Ryan's heart the way Troy telling him his eyes were beautiful would have? It was probably a play on something Troy had heard in a cheesy romance flick that his mother made him watch. He didn't inquire how the athlete had attained the knowledge of the texture of his hindquarters, although he supposed his posterior flaunting exposes on stage may have had a hand in it. They way he ground his hips into the air, his pants illegally tight, especially around his unmentionables, it wasn't far-fetched to conclude that it was difficult _not _to have the eyes riveted on his outward pressing curves. He wouldn't dare ruin the moment. His smirk metamorphosed into a smile.

Seeing that smile on the blond's face, Troy felt a rush of exhilaration, a feeling that he could do anything, handle anything. Turning to the other boy, he took a step forward. "So, Ry," He took another step, invading the performer's personal bubble. Ryan didn't seem to mind.

"Yes?" Drawing out the word, Ryan leaned in, his chest brushing the athlete's, his sanity leaving him. _It must be the power of the lip gloss. _

"Are your lips as soft as they look?"

He brushed Troy's nose with his own as he relayed to him, "There's only one way to find that out, Troy."

Troy wasted no time in proving to Ryan's delight that he was as quick in wit as he was on the court. He took full advantage of the opportunity and their lips crashed together. He wrapped his arms about Ryan, grinning like a lunatic as the boy's arms twined around his neck. Yes, Ryan's lips were just as soft as they looked. The taste of strawberries and glitter rubbed off on Troy's lips as he and Ryan sought more of each other, deepening the oral contact. It was intoxicating, addictive.

Ryan was at a euphoria high as the hands of the basketball god ran down his backside, thumbs threading through his belt loops. A soft groan escaped from his lips and Troy reciprocated it with a grunt that reverberated throughout his throat, filling their joined mouths. The smaller boy pressed in, encouraging the entrance of the taller boy's tongue. Breaking off for but a moment, the athlete backed the actor into the wall opposite them.

The eyelashes of the blond fluttered with bliss as the hands of the golden boy ran up and down his silk indigo vest, his touch tingling over the rest of his body.

* * *

A shrill ringing filled the hallways. Troy Bolton and Ryan Evans left the bathroom in one another's company, their clothing slightly disheveled, Ryan's fedora slightly askew. Smiles of giddiness were plastered on their faces, their shoulders brushing as they matched one another's step pattern.

The elder Evans twin, Sharpay, was waiting for them as they rounded the corner, tapping her jewel-encrusted foot impatiently. "It's about time!" She outputted, exasperated. "What took you so long?" She eyed her brother, her brown eyes flashing in expectance of the formation of an excuse and a damn good one.

With Troy at his side, Ryan was unfazed. He was king of the world. His eyes shifting to the other boy, he chirped with undefeatable perkiness, "I was putting on my lip gloss and I got caught up in something!"

The girl's brow arched as she gave her brother a very peculiar look. As her gaze shifted to the brunette male, however, her brow angle deepened as if the world around her had gone topsy-turvy. "Troy are you wearing my brother's lip gloss?!!" The volume of her interjection along with the madness of what it implied earned sniggers from eavesdroppers and deeply perturbed stares from those who retained their sanity.

Glancing at the golden boy, Ryan found that a glossy sheen decorated the boys lips as it did his own. For a moment, he came down from his high and felt a flash of anxiety.

Troy however gave a non-committal shrug. His response caused Ryan to fall madly in love. "Why yes," he grinned as if it was the greatest thing in the world to be wearing the lip-gloss of East High's theater king. "I am."

Ignoring the stares form their peers, the happy pair made their way down the hall preparing to exeunt from the loathsome, wonderful building, floating on cloud-nine. Their hands intertwined, there was an unspoken promise to finish what had been started.

A sated smile on his face, Ryan declared internally, _The power of the lip gloss has prevailed!_ The odds had shifted. In a daze of strawberries, glitter and Axe cologne, he and Troy made their way to the athlete's hand-me down pick-up.

**A/N: **Blame this on a need to write something light-hearted and an overdose of giddy pop music from the 90s. Yes, the A-teens and Steps have corrupted this! 


End file.
